


Only By The Night

by shepherd



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 09:39:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A modern vampire AU, written for a prompt. It's getting harder and harder to keep Theon's secret, especially when his nephews get themselves in too deep, and a powerful vampire turns his gaze towards them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only By The Night

**Author's Note:**

> Witten for glamrockvampire on tumblr. Hope this is enjoyed!  
> Also, these vampires are heavily inspired by the Red Court and The White Court vampires in The Dresden Files series by Jim Butcher. Bloody amazing reads.

Theon’s thin lips were set in a firm and grim line as he gripped his shoulder tightly, feeling the warm, sticky blood seep through his fingers. There’s a dull throb, a strong ache in his leg, and he hisses lowly as he crosses the tiled floor with an obvious limp. He could feel liquid heat trickle down his thigh. He might have left bloodstains, little puddles of water and muddy footprints behind, signs of his passage along the hallways, but he didn’t care if he did. It isn’t his priority. Getting up the hallway to his apartment is. Not getting an infected wound is too, along with not passing out and not getting discovered. Having a nosy neighbour hear him, then spot him and call the police would _not_ be beneficial.

He lives in a fairly well to do place, and it’s very, very early in the morning. His shoes are squeaking, but in his own ears it sounds like shrieks. Theon winces, baring his teeth. He hopes he doesn’t slip and crash to the floor. His shoulder burns and his belly churns, and his vision waxes and wanes. The trip up the elevator was torturously long and the way the tight, enclosed box jolted and whined made him want to be physically ill. He’d exited the elevator with only a slight stumble on the sixth floor, and his apartment was in sight. _Finally._ Satisfaction and joy bloomed in his heart, and his fingers fumbled in the pocket of his worn, almost completely ripped to pieces suit jacket. He grasped for his keys, sweaty fingers slipping, and the lapse of concentration causes him to stumble. He grunts as a spark of pain jolts up his knee, and he wishes he was just home already. He’d much rather be anywhere than staggering down a hallway fighting to keep his balance.

His hot fingers curl around his keys, and he gives a tiny groan of relief at the feeling of cold, sharp metal. It’s the only thing that’s gone right for him- and even that is taken away and rendered useless in a split second.

His apartment door is wide open, proudly displaying the inside of his house, and the light from the hallway is leaking into his living room. There’s no sign of damage around the door- no scratches and the door remains on its hinges to Theon’s relief- and he surmises that the lock must have been picked. He snarls a curse, rage filling him as he sees the blatant invasion of his privacy and his home. He feels a burn in the roof of his mouth, an all too familiar sensation. There’s twin stabs of pain. He runs his tongue along his teeth, and feels his fangs emerge. A grin curls on his lips, and he faintly realises he must look like a monster.

Pushing that crippling knowledge to the back of his mind, the keys drop from his hand. His empty hand curls into a fist, and he speeds his pace, pushing himself and fighting to ignore his limp. Soon, he is at his door, and he braces himself against it, using the hand that once protected his shoulder. He smears blood across it, but he doesn’t care. He lets out a low growl of warning, his eyes carefully watching the darkness for any sign of movement.

He likes his living room. It’s simple, and it serves his needs, but it’s not overly garish. The living room and the kitchen are merged into one room, with an island counter separating the two. The bedroom is hidden away down a long hallway, alongside the bathroom and another spare bedroom. It’s his, it’s private, and it’s simple. But he’s much more engrossed in the shadow he sees. He halts, half in the light of the hallway and half in the shadow.

It’s a man, that he can see. He’s standing in the kitchen, and he’s not bothering to be quiet about it. His shoes are heavy, probably boots, and they make loud footfalls and the occasional squeak on the floor. He’s even humming to himself, some small tune that Theon doesn’t recognise. He opens the fridge and spills light all over the kitchen, and he can see flowing dark hair, but cannot see his face.

Theon can smell him easily, and he faintly recognises the scent. There’s the faint aroma of blood, rich but light, marking him as a vampire and one that hasn’t fed recently. He can smell shampoo, apple he thinks, and light sweat under some brand of deodorant he doesn’t know and just a touch too much cologne. Something in his brain clamours, calling for his attention, knowing there’s something wrong and there’s something he’s forgetting or ignoring. But the hunter in him wants this intruder _out._

Theon stepped into the room, his eyes locked onto his soon to be victim. The stranger is completely unaware of his presence, yanking open a cupboard and rifling through his cereals and packets of porridge. He tries to remain as silent as possible, and his heavy boots only create a surprisingly small sound on the laminated wooden floor. Nothing a human could hear- but the intruder slams the door shut and spins on his feet, a sudden flash of movement that may have made Theon jump if he wasn’t so cautious and already on edge. Dark hair whirls around at the movement, and while the intruders face is hidden, he can clearly hear the threatening hiss, and can see the man tense up. A vampire. Theon snarls in return, expressing every ounce of his rage and his bloodlust, feeling his chest rumble with the force, and he attacks without a second thought.

The two immediately tear into each other, with equal ferocity and power. Theon tries to grasp at his throat, aiming to haul the man up and slam his head against the cupboards, hoping to daze him. However, the assailant is quick and nimble, and manages to dart out of the way. He kicks out, as if in an unorganized panic, and connects with his injured knee. He grunts, and his leg buckles underneath his weight, wobbling dangerously and costing him precious seconds. The vampire let out another inhuman noise, a terrible rasping sound, and shoved him back. Theon’s lower back connected hard with the island counter, and he let out an alarmed and pained ‘oof!’. The assailant throws himself after him, and out of instinct, Theon lifts up his leg and kicks out. Thankfully, it wasn’t his injured leg, and his foot collides into the invaders stomach. He gets the air knocked out of his lungs and staggers back, an arm wrapping around himself and clutching his belly. Theon shoves past, knocking him into the floor and stepping out into the living room, trying to give himself more space. His partner recovers both extraordinarily and irritatingly quickly, and is on his feet in seconds.

Theon had a split second to hear another noise, a mix between another hiss and a yowl, and the sound of footfalls behind him. He thinks for a few seconds it’s a particularly angry feline- before he realises just how _ridiculous_ that idea is and before a heavy weight slams into his back.

Theon roars, partly in pain, partly in challenge. He spun on one foot, pivoting, and swiped out his hand, feeling it connect heavily with skin. The second attacker stumbled backwards, and in that time, the first attacker struck. He felt a fist snatch at his head, fingers threading deep, fisting and clenching, and the vampire yanked down hard. Pain exploded, and he felt a good many hairs tear away from his head and the hand slip from his hair. He bellowed, forced to turn again like a fierce animal getting prodded with sticks, and lashes out blindly. He doesn’t know which way to turn, who to face, and more importantly he doesn’t know what the hell is going on. The pain made his eyes wet with tears and his vision blurred. He bares his teeth, a threatening gesture, and snarls out a furious challenge.

Then he hears a sharp inhale of breath, and a rough curse.

“Kincade, _stop!”_ He heard an achingly familiar voice cry out, and a presence stormed past him and pushed the first vampire away. After another, much weaker pull, the hand loosened in his hair. The throbbing pain remained, and Theon scrambled away, a hand covering the part of his head he knew without doubt would be sore come dawn, and spat out a curse. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and his fangs ached. He hurt everywhere. He heard voices, hushed and hurried, and he glowered up, ready to face his attackers and demand just _what the fuck was going on._

Two very familiar men were staring at him, two very different expressions on each of their young faces. The first attacker, Kincade, had a good handful of Theon’s long dark hairs clutched in his fist. He looked scandalized and shocked, his dark eyes wide and his mouth lax. His chest heaves as he breathes, and his eyebrows are furrowed in befuddlement. In turn, Fidel’s hand rests on his blood brother’s shoulder, half in reassurance and in defence. He watches Theon, his eyes wary and careful. He can just about see blood pooling at the side of his mouth, likely from the forceful blow Theon gave him. While the brunette looks affronted, the blond looks worried.

“Uncle.” Fidel’s voice is hesitant. “I’m so-”

“What the hell was that about?!” The youngest child bursts out, his voice indignant. “Good to know you still welcome visitors!”

The eldest vampire relaxed, his taut muscles slowly easing, the threatening set of his shoulders slowly dropping. He let himself catch his breath for a second, but he gives them a hard, weary look. He huffed out a heavy exhale. “I didn’t know. What-”

“Your arm!” Fidel near yelped, and he jumped forward, grabbing his collar and hauling him closer ungracefully. He touched the ruined jacket, feeling the hot blood staining the fabric. His eyes were wide and aghast. “What the hell happened?”

Uninterested, Theon shook himself free, and pulled away. He turned away and headed back to the door, hitting the light switch. After a slight pause and a soft hum of electricity, the lights flickered on. There was indeed blood at the side of Fidel’s mouth, and Kincade’s face was flushed pink. “What are you two doing?” He ignored their panic, his demanding voice furious. He storms back to them, halting a few steps away, and they have the good graces to look suddenly bashful. “Breaking into my home? Invading my privacy? Going through my damn cupboards?”

“I think that’s the least of your worries,” Is the sharp reply, and while he’s viciously angry and raring for a fight, Theon is man enough to know his companion has the right of things. “We came here for fun. You weren’t opening up, you wouldn’t answer your phone- we wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“And you attacked me and ripped my hair out. Thanks for the help.” He said dryly.

“Well, you attacked me first. Good thing hair grows back quick, huh, uncle?” Kincade beamed, and Theon could see the brunette’s own fangs clearly, pearly white and dangerously sharp.

A frown deeply set on his face, he only has one mumbled comeback. “I’m not your bloody uncle.” He mutters, hating how weak it is. Kincade and Fidel were the banes of his life- irritating, persistent little shits. He wasn’t their uncle, he didn’t even know them that well, but they insisted that they were family and wouldn’t take ‘ _no, leave me alone_ ’ as an answer. They weren’t his nephews, nor where they truly brothers, but Theon was their ‘blood brother‘, and their only connection to the supernatural world. Theon’s sister, Diana, had been the vampire who turned them. He’d been a touch aghast and completely furious when he discovered them, and she never justified herself or gave a reason why she turned two men. She’d died years later, killed by another vampire, and he was still none the wiser. And he found himself the favourite teddy bear of two grown men who knew barely anything about being vampires. Not a day went by where Theon didn’t wish that the two didn’t follow him around, or at the least, Diana had trained them better, but it was too late for wishes and hopes.

Kincade pouted, his full soft looking lips making him look like a child. “Don’t be like that.” His voice was a purr, and he moved close to his blonde partner, his hand brushing his lightly. Theon saw Fidel’s hand clench, gently, as if resisting the urge to take his hand in his. Kincade noticed nothing, and he lifted his hand, his gaze curious and question as he parted his fingers, letting the threads of Theon’s hair slip through his slim fingers and silently fall to the floor. He snarled at him, his anger only building at the mess. They had violated his home and wrecked it. The pillows that sat on his sofa were strewn across the floor, most of his cupboards were wide upon, and they hadn’t taken their boots off before walking on the carpet. He despised that. He had a mat at the front door for a reason. Although, to be fair- and he hated being fair- he too had kept his boots on, and tracked filth and mud and blood across the floor. Kincade looked away from the hair, and his eyes flared with surprise, craning over and invading Fidel’s personal space, staring at the path of destruction Theon had left.

“Yeah, you are a bit fucked, aren’t you?” He mused out loud, his eyes on the blood and his voice a murmur, and Fidel looked exasperated. Theon simply scowled at him, his eyes dark.

“Kincade, get my keys. I dropped them outside.” He commanded, his voice authoritative and clear. His drill sergeant tones seemed to made something spark in their minds, the grey matter under their seemingly thick skulls finally kicking in. They jolted, standing to attention, and without any further jibes Kincade obeyed, pushing past the two and disappearing out the door. Theon too shoved past Fidel, with a passing grunt. He sat himself down, perching perilously on one of the tall stools at the island. One, he dimly noticed, had been knocked over in the scuffle. He stared at it, his eyes a little vague, and taking the hint, his blonde clumsily knelt, picking it back up and rearranging it, looking sheepish all the while.

“What happened?” He asked, taking the seat next to his elder. “You look like crap.”

“Really?” The sarcasm weighs heavily on his voice. “You don’t say.” He pressed his knuckles against his slowly but deeply throbbing temple, an unconscious gesture of frustration. “Tell me what you’re doing here first. And don‘t tell me ‘for fun.’ It‘s bullshit.”

Fidel expression twisted into one of distaste, and stress was carved into his handsome face. He looked tired, his eyes duller than usual and his posture slumped as he sat.

“It was ‘Cade’s idea.” He began, and Theon snorted. That much was already obvious. Anything that irritated him was always Kincade’s idea. He heard said vampire enter, his footfalls heavy. The door shut with an alarmingly considerate click, and soon the brunette joined them, lightly placing the keys on the counter with minimal noise. He picked up one of the stools easily, with one large hand, and hauled it across the kitchen, almost deigning to sit opposite his ‘family’. He said nothing, his piercing gaze a little resentful. “We didn’t plan this- it was completely spontaneous. We thought we’d visit you. You are,” A patronizing smile curls on his lips, and his eyebrows lift. “family, after all.”

“I’m not.” He insists. “I can’t understand why you two think that.”

“You’re the brother of the one who turned us.” Kincade insisted, leaning forward over the counter. “You’re basically our family.”

“Which means you two are brothers,” He shot back immediately. “You still fuck each other.”

Kincade recoiled as if Theon had lashed out at him, and his eyes flashed. A growl ripped for his chest and it rumbled in the quiet of the room. His shoulders tightened and his body tensed, becoming taut. His hands, once splayed across the counter in a compulsive, open gesture, curled into fists. But Fidel’s hand reached across, resting his hand on his, rubbing a calloused thumb across his knuckles. His voice was a nearly silent reassurance, more for his lover than his uncle. “It’s not the same.”

“How?”

“It’s just _not.”_ Kincade bit, his voice sour. But he didn’t pull away, and he kept his still dark eyes cast down almost demurely. Theon could see his hand relax minutely under the blonde’s. There’s a deep line of worry across Fidel’s forehead, and he huffs out a heavy sigh. Theon doesn’t admitting defeat, but he knows from experience that he never wins this argument. He backs down, and finally answers their question.

“I got attacked.” He begins, and he scowls at Kincade’s chortle. “I know, it’s obvious, you little shit. Bastards ripped into me. It was a gang. Vampires. I didn’t realise, but I wandered into what they deemed ‘their territory’. I left some of them in a worse condition then I’m in, and the rest ran with their tails between their legs.” Talking at length made his voice gruff, and he noted his throat was dry. “Fidel, get me water.” But the blonde hesitated, and for a moment, did not move.

“Theon,” His voice is hushed and low. “Were you…?”

For a split second, he doesn’t understand, and his immediate reaction is to snap at him and demand that he does what he was told. Then he takes a look at the boy, a real look, and sees the tension and the apprehension in his cool eyes. He turns to Kincade, and sees the exact same expression. He huffs a sour laugh, and shakes his head, returning his gaze to the elder. “If I was bitten or licked, I wouldn’t have made it back here.”

It takes a few seconds, in which the two boys exchange a wary look, but they eventually relax. To a human, it would seem a ridiculous answer to a bizarre unspoken question, but every blood drinker knew just how severe the situation would have been. “I suppose…” Kincade eventually says, slowly. He jerks his head over to the cupboard, where they all knew the mugs were kept. “Shall I…?”

“No, I’ll do it.” The stool shrieks across the ground when Fidel pushed it back. He bustles around the kitchen for a while, picking a mug from the cupboard- a vibrant red, with ’sod calm, get angry’ written on one side- and filling it with tap water. He places it in front of the wounded man, eying him up and down. He was in a state, but he seemed to take no notice. He hummed lightly as Theon grabbed the mug and took a long swig and several gulps, almost emptying it.

“Who was it?” He asks when the mug is returned to the counter. Theon takes a moment to breathe, before wiping his wet mouth with the back of his hand. His lips twist and his expression becomes bitter.

“Smaug.” He growls the familiar name.

Fidel hissed like a feline, and Theon found it laughable. They were both too young, too inexperienced to know just who Smaug was. They saw him as just some vampire, granted a powerful one, but still just some hot headed arsehole who was causing a little bit of trouble. They led with their hearts and their guts, and were capable of trusting too easily and making the mistakes that led to them getting bitten in the first place. They didn’t know half the story, and they knew nothing of Smaug.

“Was he there?” Kincade pressed for details, leaning forward in his seat.

“No. I likely would have been overpowered, dragged away and starved if he was.” He’s not proud enough to admit that, and Kincade drops his gaze, seemingly morose and sobered. He stares down in his lap, and Fidel clears his throat softly. Theon gets it. It’s a primal fear, one that every vampire. A fear of starvation- the only way a vampire can die. “I don’t know where he was, but I know his little friends. It was him, alright.”

“Fuck.” Fidel said simply, and Theon concurs. He drinks the last bit of water, and pushes the mug away. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “I’m not in the mood for you two tonight. I want to sleep.”

“Your wounds-”

“They’ll heal.” He brushed away their concerns. “I got stabbed in the shoulder and cut on the thigh. They’ll be better in the morning.” He gaze becomes wistful. “I won’t be able to salvage my jacket though.” It was a gift from Dis, not so long ago. Kincade’s eyes soften in understanding.

“I’m sure something can be done.” He reassures him. Theon knows it’s a lost cause, but he fakes a small smile.

“I’m taking a shower. Cleaning this muck off me. Then I’m going to bed.” He tells them, allowing no argument. He pushes himself off of the counter, and the two jump off with him. “Where will you two go? Home?”

The hesitate, and look at one another. “Well,” The begin at the exact same time, and one stutters whilst the other winces, unwilling to continue. Theon watches, suspicious, and dreading their next words.

Kincade takes control. “We think it’ll be a better if we stay tonight.” Before Theon can growl out a blunt refusal and grab them by their shirts, haul them out of the door and slam it in their faces, Fidel backs up his brother.

“It’d be a good idea- we don’t know if maybe they followed you, or maybe might be in the area? Smaug’s smart, right? Wouldn’t he keep check of all London’s vampires?” He grinned. “Three pairs of fangs are better than one, right?”

While he can’t stand the thought of having these two in his house for anything more than an hour, Theon is forced to grit his teeth and agree. While those two were wet behind the ears and might just want to play at being heroes, as much as they might get him into deeper trouble they might help him out of a sticky situation. He remembered the beating he had suffered just a few hours ago, the agony he had both been given and gave, and tried not to shudder. He wondered if he’d see his attackers tonight, in his home or simply in his dreams. “Fine,” He says, and the two look bewildered and delighted. “But be _quiet.”_ With that, he turns on his heels and disappears down the hallway, leaving mud and blood behind him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o

The shower is a relief, and Theon leans against the cold shower wall, the chill causing shivers to dance up his spine. Scalding water washes down the length of his body, and it slowly drains away, pink and brown from filth and blood. His body sears with pain as the water drips into his open wound, but he perseveres, concentrating on getting himself clean and feeling his taut muscles slowly relax. By the time he eventually forces himself out of the shower, his skin is flushed and the mirror opposite the shower is misted and unusable. He wipes it clean with a towel before wrapping it around himself, and stares at himself.

He looked like he had been chewed up and spat straight back out. He looked like hell. Age had etched and brutally carved itself onto his face, and his eyes were full of dark shadows and weariness. His jaw was stained purple with a huge ugly bruise, and felt tender. He didn’t even want to look at his shoulder, and pulsing pain reminded him of the wound on his thigh. He stepped out of the bathroom- an impatient Fidel lingered outside, complaining bitterly, and as soon as he spotted Theon he darted into the stuffy bathroom and shut himself inside- and crossed the hall to his bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he wished he had the foresight to fit it with a lock.

Giving the ruined, filthy clothes he dumped in the corner a judgemental, sideways look, he crossed over to his wardrobe and yanked out and old pair of pyjama bottoms. They were old, a little too big and had holes in the bottom, but they were comfortable. Theon rubbed at his face tiredly, and stretched languidly.

He switched off his light and crawled into his bed, praying he didn’t wake up to cries and hisses.

-o-o-o-o-o-o

He didn’t, to his relief, but instead he woke up to something far worse. The wrath of one William Baggins.

The man storms around the apartment, his voice raised and his eyes blazing. He slams about, making more noise than was really necessary, slamming cups and bowls down and throwing cutlery on the table. He hurls furious but well meaning abuse at the lot of them, barking out curses.

Theon lounges on the sofa, pushed there under his lover’s insistence, and stares up at the ceiling, hating his life and cursing his existence. He has a cup of tea resting on the coffee table, long since cold and completely untouched. He huffs and sighs all the way through Will’s speech, willing it to be over, and every time there is a moment of silence his heart lightens with hope- until he growls “ _And another thing!”_ and it all starts over again.

He takes a twisted kind of pleasure in listening to what he snaps at the two boys, and their defeated, miserable whines. They sit together at the kitchen’s island, one half naked and only wearing a borrowed- stolen- pair of pyjama bottoms, and one still wearing last nights now crumpled clothes. Their half eaten breakfasts, a plate laden with bacon and eggs, lay in front of them and they stare longingly at them. But they’re too terrified of this strange man they’ve never met before, and love their physical well being too much to sacrifice it to him.

Will was short and he looked like the kind of person who’d live in a close knit community, a small village somewhere in the beautiful country, and be the most popular man there. He’d be friendly and polite, invite the neighbours over for tea, spend his time working in his garden. He wore jumpers, for fucks sake. He looked like the type of man who hugged kittens. But instead, he lived in the middle of London, barely spoke to anyone outside of his social circle, and had the temper of a beast.

“I can’t believe this.” He was saying, for what must have been the tenth time that morning. “I come over, expecting to just find my boyfriend, and I find the place a damn state, filth everywhere- _there was dirt and blood and hair on the floor, Thorin_!- and two bloody strangers sitting in the kitchen casually stuffing their faces. And you wont tell me what just the bloody hell is going on!”

Will says bloody a lot, Theon notes absentmindedly, and says nothing. He makes no movement and doesn’t tear his gaze away from the pale ceiling. He’s digging his grave deeper with every second that goes by, but he can’t find enough passion in him to give a toss.

“For God’s sake!” He exclaims after waiting a few moments, expecting Theon to defend himself. “Tell me what happened, now.”

The vampire had woken up later than he usually did, about ten in the morning. Sunlight streamed through the window, promising a bright new day, full of possibilities and hopefully no attempted murder. And the morning had gone well, for a while. He left his bedroom, finding his ‘nephews’ squabbling loudly about what they wanted to watch on the TV. Wordless, Theon tugged it from Fidel’s hands, and switched it on to something he wanted. He put up for their bitter complaints for a while, but they eventually fell silent, caught up in each other once more.

Conversation had turned to the predicament they were seemingly trying ignore once- Fidel turned to him and fixed him with a steady, curious gaze. “How are you wounds?” He asked, and Kincade leant past his lover, trying to see. Theon pulled a face.

“Better.” It was the truth. “My shoulder is much better, but obviously not perfect. My legs hurt, my knee and my thigh. I’m also covered in bruises still.” He reached up and lightly prodded at his jaw line. It still stung, and he growled. His scalp still felt tender, and he wondered if the missing hair was noticeable. “I’ll recover. I’ll be quicker if I fed recently…” He trails off, realizing he had revealed something he usually wouldn’t. His feeding was something intimate that he kept very private. But the fact he was hungry was obvious, considering his rate of healing. “But….”

Kincade throws him a life line, and for that, he’s grateful. “Smaug’s a twat.” He grin, and all of them manage a laugh. “Needs to be taken down a peg or two.”

Theon grunted his agreement. “He’s been making our existence hell.” At Fidel’s curious look, he elaborates. “Not us as in us, here. He’s been causing trouble for all vampires. Making too many situations like this. Taking too many humans, not hiding the evidence, and practically flaunting what he is.” He aggressively jabbed at his cereal, scowling into the bowl. “There’s been so many people. Either sucked dry and just left where the humans can easily find them, or left with just enough blood to survive, but on the brink of madness.”

Kincade dropped his head, and Fidel looked away. “Twat.” The young brunette echoed, and that was the end of the conversation.

The atmosphere in the room grew less tense and more light and calm as time passed, and the friendly banter and chatter resumed when the two decided to make their breakfast. They’d barely started to sit down and eat it, and Theon began to consider cleaning up the house when he became aware of footsteps, growing louder. He was foolish enough to dismiss the sounds- a lot of people lived on this floor- but he couldn’t ignore the keys in the lock. He only had enough time to swear loudly before the door was pushed open, and had no time at all to distract William.

He was going to tell him none of that.

Theon rolls his head to one side, locking eyes with his lover and giving him what he hoped was an innocent glance. “Nothing really happened. It’s quite boring, really.”

It’s quite funny, watching Will erupt. The tips of his ears go read, and he looks like he watches to punch the man straight in the face. His fists clench and his eyebrows narrow. “What.” His voice is dangerous.

Fidel tries to save him. He sits forward, and although he looks frightened and like he wishes he were anywhere else in the world, his voice is calm and he tries to be calm and reasonable. “I, um, think that-”

They never found out what he thought. He shut up pretty quickly when Will rounded on him. “Who are you?”

He wilts, and Kincade looks like he wants to die. “Um.” The blonde says uselessly. “I’m Fidel. This,” He jerks his head towards his brunette. “is Kincade. At your service?”

Will glowered at them, but tipped his head politely. “Good to meet you.” The two look sheepish, and one sighs with relief and go through a pantomime of wiping invisible sweat from their foreheads when he turns away, back to Theon. “Who are they?” He demands.

“My nephews.” He says without a second though, and he can see Kincade’s lips twitch amusedly. “They came around to bother me. They do that a lot.”

William paused, growing quiet. “You don’t talk about your family much.” He says, just a trace of suspicion in his tone, alongside reluctance.

“They’re all annoying as them.” He says, and ignores the outraged ‘ _hey!’._ “I only really see these two regularly. The others don’t come over much. I go to them, sometimes.”

Will quirked his head to one side. “They came over and ripped your hair out in greeting?”

“No, that was kids.”

“Kids in your apartment? I bet.” Will said wryly.

“No.” He says again, his voice firm. “That was some stupid kids out in the street. You know what these bloody youngsters are like, always showing off in front of their mates.” He sits up, slowly swinging his legs off the sofa, acting like his body was sore. “I got too close, they got lairy and aggressive, I said something stupid and they didn’t like it.” He shrugged, and his shoulder stung. He winced, bring a hand up to gently touch the cut that remained. He noted it had healed very well, but there was a long pink like and the skin around it was pink and a little swollen. “Shit went down, basically.”

Will’s eyes appraised him quickly, running up and down his still bare torso. He heard a snicker from Kincade, and Theon shot him a dark glance. It shut him up pretty quickly, and he leant into his lover, trying to hide and bury his face in his clothes. Will huffed, shifting his weight to one leg and his mouth twisting in distaste.

“You’re hiding something,” He stated, locking his eyes with Theon. “Something important.”

Theon turned to the youths in his kitchen. “Are you two going to just sit there, or can you back me up here?”

Sheepish, Fidel hung his head and muttered a brief confirmation. Kincade said nothing, still curled up next to him. Will crossed his arms against his chest and scowled, his expression one of disbelief. _Well, thanks for nothing you two. I’ll remember that._

“If you don’t tell me,” William warned, stepping right up to Theon and glaring down at him. He stood over him, but in no way towered. Theon wasn’t exactly tall, but William was the shortest man he’d ever met. Theon was only just shorter than him, with him sitting and Will standing. “I’ll go to Balin and ask if he knows what’s going on.”

Fuck,

He thought, something heavy dropping in his stomach. He felt ill. Balin knew nothing, not about what happened, not about Smaug, not about vampires. No one knew, and if they ever found out… Theon wanted to scream. He dropped his head into one hand, his eyes squeezed shut, his teeth grinding together in frustration. He pulled a face, baring his normal teeth. _Fuck._

After a moment, he got back up, his hand now rubbing carefully at his temples, the beginnings of a migraine haunting him. He looked up at his partner, seeing the sudden worry in his eyes replacing his rage and irritation.

“Theon?” He asked tentatively.

Beginning his own little piece of theatre, taking a page out of his nephews books, he pretends to look stung and tired. “I’ll tell you.” He sighs wearily, and Will looks convinced. “It wasn’t just some kids. It was a gang, some of them kids, but more dangerous. They weren’t coming after me,” He hurriedly adds when he sees his expression. “They were terrorizing this one guy, some poor terrified looking guy. I got involved, trying to help.” He looked up, working his best ‘abused puppy’ expression. “I could let him get hurt, I couldn’t walk on by like nothing was happening.”

Will’s eyes immediately softened, and he took the seat Theon had freed up beside him. He hesitantly reached for his hand, and the vampire allowed the touch, their fingers lacing together with wonderful ease. “I know you wouldn’t have, love. You’re a good man.”

He feels terrible and the lies weigh heavily on his conscience, and Will’s sudden sweet kiss doesn’t soothe him like it usually would. His lover’s hand touches the back of his head lightly, careful not to agitate his sore scalp, and pulls him close. Something dark and twisted rears its ugly head deep inside, and Theon can barely hold back a growl, hunger gnawing at him. He manages to turn the sound into a soft purr instead, one of pleasure. Theon can’t help but sink into the feeling of his rich warmth, and easily returns his affections- but it ends quickly, and Will moves on to check his shoulder. He’s half disappointed, wanting more attention, but glad too- the roof of his mouth burns again, his monster is howling for him, and he wants to feed.

“That looks pretty bad.” He muses, his eyebrows narrowed. “Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“It’s nothing.” Theon shrugs it off- he would have literally, but that would have been foolhardy and painful. “It’s healed decently anyway.” He gives him a roughish grin, hoping his fangs don’t make a sudden appearance. “I’m like Captain America.”

Will likely would have thumped him for that, albeit affectionately, but today he gives him a longsuffering, half genuine smile, and stands up. “Have you eaten?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I’ve had water too, and I haven’t done anything strenuous. Don’t worry about me.” Will bustles around, back around the kitchen, giving Kincade and Fidel hard, but not as evil looks.

“‘Don’t worry about me’, he says.” He mocks. “’I’ve gotten into a fight with a bloody gang and completely ruined the carpet, but don’t worry.’ What happened to that guy, anyway?”

“He’s fine, as far as I know.” Theon lies like an expert, from years of practise. “The gang ended up scampering, and he was grateful, and we went our separate ways.”

“Didn’t he help you?”

“I think he just wanted to get home. I wanted to as well.”

Will grumbles. “You’ll be the death of me, Durin.” He says, exasperated, but says nothing else on the subject. “I came here for a reason, and got incredibly distracted. Could I steal your shower for a bit? They’ve switched off the bloody water in my apartment, again. I would have called ahead, but I haven‘t seen you in a while and it was quite early when I left…”

Theon smiles, and it’s the first smile in a while that wasn’t grim, fake or patronizing. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Thank you.” William shoots him a grateful look, and after a few minutes of cleaning up- throwing last nights mugs and Theon’s bowl in the sink and disposing of his hair (with a disgusted expression on his face) he disappears down the hallway and into the bathroom.

They patiently wait until the sound of water starts up, but as soon as they are sure Will won’t hear them, Kincade and Fidel start excitedly chatting amongst themselves and move from their seats in the kitchen to sit around Theon.

“How do you do it?” Kincade asks excitedly. “That was _amazing.”_

“We can’t do that, that ‘withholding your hunger’ thing. Whenever someone gets close when we’re a bit peckish, we can’t control ourselves.” His eyes darken just a touch. “I’ve never killed anyone- I just take a bit of blood, just enough to make the other side of me shut up- but it’s so difficult to stop.”

“Is that because you’re older and more experienced? Do you feed on him or someone else?”

It was hard. There were times where Theon didn’t want to pull away, he didn’t want his lover to go. He hated taking advantage of him, taking his _blood,_ for God’s sake, and lived in constant terror that he might go just a little too far and kill him. He hated shoving his demon down, stifling it’s growls, and hated the fact he had to keep secrets.

“Maybe it’s my experience,” Theon spoke harsher than he had meant too, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Or maybe it’s because I love him and I don’t like hurting him.”

Kincade beamed, deep and attractive laugh lines revealing themselves on his face and his grin almost reaching his ears. “That’s good. In a way. It’s nice that you have someone like Will around.”

“While it’s awful that you constantly need to be aware of yourself, it’s good that you have those feelings. It means you’re constantly careful and you’ll never hurt him.” Fidel spoke wisely, and Theon nodded absentmindedly, still lost in the memory of Will’s kiss. The monster kept pacing inside, trapped in the restricted, guarded cage of Theon’s mind. “But…I could never do that. Take blood from someone I love. I couldn’t.”

“I’m careful.” Theon snarled, his voice rising in volume as he defended himself. “I don’t do it regularly. I wait until I’m practically desperate, and I never take more than I need or more than would hurt him. I’d rather take some blood from him than slip into that hunger frenzy and accidentally kill him.”

“You could take it from someone else, like we do.” Fidel suggested. “It’s easy.”

He felt pathetic for saying this, like a foolish love struck teen, but it was the truth. “No. It’s… too intimate, too much like having an affair. I know it’s logical, and it would be the clever thing to do, but… I can’t do that.”

Two pairs of sympathetic eyes watched him carefully. “I understand.” Fidel nodded. But Kincade’s eyes were uncertain.

“Is Will….you know?” He lowered his voice for no good reason, as Will certainly couldn’t hear them, and he even leant forward. Fidel and Theon simply stared at him oddly. “Addicted?”

Theon’s temper immediately flared, and his cold eyes flashed with rage. “You think I’d let that happen to him?” He rumbled, wanting to scream with frustration, but knowing Will would certainly come running at the sound. “You think I’m not being careful?”

Instead of backing down with his tail between his legs and slinking off to lick his wounds as he always did, Kincade narrowed his eyes in turns and growled back. “You can’t control something like that. It doesn’t matter how careful you are.”

Fidel had tensed up, alarmed at the direction the conversation had taken, and strategically placed himself between the two simmering vampires. “What he means is that Will may be compromised despite your best efforts. We’re not insinuating anything, nor do we think you’re not being careful.” He looked in-between them imploringly, trying to pacify the two. “While our saliva is a useful ability, it can cause more problems than it can solve. Be reasonable, both of you.”

Narcotic saliva. At first, it was ridiculous as it sounded, and when Theon was turned he laughed in his sire’s- his ex boyfriend’s- face. He didn’t believe him at first, believing it to be a joke, but he was sobered by both an demonstration and his admission that he’d been using the ability on his throughout the entirety of his relationship. Their saliva contained a type of toxin that had powerful narcotic effects- one of them being addiction. It allowed you to sedate a victim, make them pliant, weak and willing.

Theon’s pride had been damaged irreparably at the revelation that he was, in his own words, ‘being used as a fucking buffet’ and controlled, and had immediately ended the relationship there. It hadn’t ended too easily, with stalking, pleading, and at one point threatening, but Theon wasn’t going to take his bullshit and chased him off. And Dis, his sister… at their next meeting, they could sense what they couldn’t before. The scent of blood lingering on them, sweet and rich. She had fed, very recently, and she could tell that he was starving, and having trouble controlling himself. She taught him about how to be one of them, how to blend in. His sister was his mentor, and he missed her terribly.

Theon looked away, and stood up, pushing past them both and heading towards the counter. He felt he ought to apologise, as Kincade’s fears where well founded, but the anger still simmered inside him. He could feel their eyes burning on his back, scalding him with their judgements.

“Are you two going to finish those?” He tilted his head towards their breakfast, partly uneaten. It had been there for a while, lying abandoned on the side since William first arrived. He turned back to them, and saw Kincade pulling a face.

“No. I hate cold bacon.” He said, and Fidel hummed his agreement.

“Good.” Theon smiled. “Now go. I have stuff to do- important stuff- and I’m positive if Smaug was going to attack, he would have done it by now, in the protection of the night.”

The blonde looked hesitant and concerned, and looked at his blood brother in worry. Kincade, meanwhile, looked rageful. “After all I’ve just said, you’re going to feed on Will, aren’t you?” He said accusingly.

Theon’s dangerous fury came back tenfold. “I am.” He snapped, his voice almost a shout. Kincade scowled in response. “And it’s no business of yours. Now _get out_.”

“You’re going to make a mistake.” The brunette warned him, but he willingly stepped past his own lover and headed for the door. Fidel followed silently, much more cautiously. “We know you care for Will, and we know you’re being an idiot. You can’t do this forever.”

Theon bristled, and he harshly hissed at them, his voice rough and threatening. He radiated a clear coldness, an open threat, an obvious bloodlust. He forced himself to keep a careful distance away, knowing he needed to retain control. “Get out.” He commanded once more, making it clear that if they didn’t obey him, there would be dire consequences.

Kincade turned on his heel and left, with Fidel trailing hesitantly after him. He parted from his uncle with a careful, brief nod. He followed him out the door, and a second later, the door was slammed. The sound echoed throughout the house.

Theon sucked in an unsteady breath, and exhaled heavily. It was a struggle to calm himself, and he wanted to grab something and throw it against the wall, let it shatter. Preferably Kincade, but that would just make his situation worse. He gave himself a few minutes to breathe, and to let the sudden, blissful silence of the flat to soothe him. And soon he was chilled and relaxed, with the plague like vampires gone. He ignored the state the room was in, leaving the food on the island to clean up later, and stepped into his bedroom. He lingered there for just a moment, wondering if there was any point in getting dressed, when the sound of water from the bathroom ceased. A minute later, William emerged, a fluffy red towel tied around his waist. He brushed wet hair out of his eyes, and when he laid eyes on Theon, he grinned in greeting.

“Was that the door I heard slamming?” He asked, standing in front of Theon’s full length mirror and analysing his reflection. Theon took a set on the edge of his bed, watching him.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “Things got a bit heated, and Kincade started sulking. It was nothing major, just a family problem. Nothing important.”

William looked at him oddly through the mirror for a few long moments, but apparently elected not to ask. Theon was grateful for that, at least. “Could I borrow some of your clothes? I don’t fancy wearing what I wore here. Your clothes will be a little big, but I can run home and grab some. I can get them back to you in a few days.”

“Help yourself.” He replied, and he was thanked with a quick kiss. In that brief connection, Theon felt sheer, molten desire ebb through him. His starved monster slammed itself against the walls of his mind, howling and bellowing, fighting to burst free. But Will moved away in less than a second, and forcing it into submission became much easier. Fighting the urges while in skin to skin contact was practically impossible.

He had a sick feeling in his gut and his headache was like war drums as he watched Will dress, just steps away from him, chattering as he delved through his wardrobe, hunting for clothes. “Thanks for the shower, I really needed that. Felt awful this morning.” He pulled out a plain white dress shirt and haphazardly threw it across the bedroom. It landed behind Theon.

“One of your jumpers is folded up at the bottom somewhere. You left it here a few weeks ago.” Theon spoke up, and Will made an excited ‘ah!’ sound. He crouched and searched the bottom, hunting amongst Theon’s belongings, and eventually found it.

“Brilliant. I can wear that with the shirt.” He sounded bizarrely excited about the prospect of wearing a jumper- it was endearing, and frankly adorable. Theon chuckled. Will shot him a playful grin. “Seriously. Thank you. You’re an amazing human being, with this shower and jumper and all.”

There.

The monster whispered to him, and this time, he didn’t bother fighting. Theon took the chance William unwittingly offered, and a slow smile spread across his lips. “There are ways to thank me, you know.”

The hidden meaning wasn’t so hidden, and it took no time at all for Will’s eyes to spark with understanding. Once upon a time, in the early stages of their relationship, whenever Theon was so bold and delightfully crass he used to turn a bright red and stammer out some meaningless, surprised words. Now, used to his antics, he only laughed, his eyes shinning with amusement.

Theon abruptly stood and swept across the room to meet him, catching him in a sudden embrace. His hands delicately touched his hips through the towel, and he smirked down at him. In turn, Will reached up to hold his shoulders, being careful not to agitate the healing wound.

“But you’re hurt.” He spoke softly as Theon ducked his head, hearing his monster’s excited purr. He listened to his pulse, beating a little harder and faster than usual. He laughed against his throat, pressing his lips right against his pulse point, feeling the throb. “I just took a shower.” He complained weakly as Theon nuzzled his throat playfully.

“I’m not in that bad of a state,” He murmured in his ear, and Will shivered at the feeling of his heated breath against his skin. “And at least you’re already undressed. Did you really expect me to be able to control myself?” He purred softly. The younger man hummed lightly in response, and all of his weak protests died when Theon inhaled deeply, taking in his lovers fresh scent, and kissed his neck once before placing a long, languid lick on his bare skin.

The effect was immediate- the hands on his shoulders suddenly loosened, and the vampire felt his victim’s body relax. Will let out a tiny moan. Theon nudged his head up and nibbled at the shell of his ear, nipping playfully as the toxin did it’s work. He could hear his heartbeat accelerate and his breaths grow more ragged, and felt the way gooseflesh rose on his skin. Theon’s pet demon whined lowly, finally being fed. It groaned in satisfaction.

Theon’s hand dropped to Will’s towel and untied it, pulling him back to his bed, slowly, spinning like they were a couple alone on an empty dance floor. The little brunette followed blindly, without question, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline.

“Good.” The vampire purred, deftly switched their positions, and rode his lover to the bed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Theon moaned softly in excitement as thick blood welled up from Will’s cut, and trailed down his smooth skin, staining it a pale pink. He watched its progress for a while, taking in the heady scent and tasting the faint traces of blood left on his fangs. He had coated his wrist in that narcotic saliva, making him a weak, writhing mess, before bringing it to his mouth and sliding his mouth across it, his sharp fangs creating a long but thin cut in his wrist. It was enough to bleed a fair amount and to keep him fed, but it wasn’t too devastating, and it could be easily be blamed by his lover’s own clumsiness.

He ducked his head down, and languidly licked up the longest, thickest trail of blood. He shuddered with satisfaction and pleasure as the thick substance bloomed across his tongue, filling his mouth with the strong taste of metal and the slightest hint of salt. He groaned against his wrist, lapping up the smaller trickles quickly. His other side was finally silent and sated, and would remain until he needed to feed once more.

Will was spread out over the bed, naked, one arm slung across Theon’s back. When he was done, he wouldn’t remember any of it. Theon had him pinned, his knees resting on either side of his hips, and had previously covered his body in kisses and nips and caresses. Orgasm was already dry against his belly and chest. As the toxin took affect, he had grown less and less aware of himself and what was happening, and more and more vocal. He keened and whined quietly at the sensation of his warm tongue on his skin, and groaned at the feeling of his teeth. He had hissed lowly at the feeling of the cut, but that was all. There was no protest or complaint.

By the time Theon was finally satisfied- not quite sated, not quite full, but satisfied- Will’s arm was pink almost down to the elbow. Theon lay his tongue against the cut and waited, willing the wound to stop bleeding soon. He could feel dried blood around his lips, and the blood still against his tongue and on his teeth. Around a minute later, it was safe, and he pulled away. The wound had stopped leaking, and after carefully cleaning Will’s arm of the pink marks, Theon sat up, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with his arm, and running his tongue along his teeth. He felt warmth in his belly, almost like arousal. He clambered off the bed and checked his mouth in the mirror, making sure if he was clean. He was, and he quickly returned to his lover, lying side by side with him. His nervous system had long since succumbed and his orgasm had helped him sink completely into sensation.

Theon waited, his cheek pressed against one of the bed’s cool pillows, running his fingers through Will’s still damp curls. It took a few minutes, but he slowly returned to him, his eyes still faintly bleary and bewildered. He shifted in bed, confused, until he lay eyes on his partner. Theon offered him a pleased, lazy smile, and after a moment of hesitation, Will returned it. He let his hand, the uncut one, to drop to caress his jaw, lightly stroking.

“You alright?” He keeps his voice hushed and gentle. The curly haired man beamed back at him, curling on his side and throwing an arm across Theon’s bare waist. He curled up close, basking in his familiar heat. Theon dropped a kiss onto his head.

“Yeah.” He replied. “It’s a bit weird how I keep getting really drowsy after sex, though. Like I’ve just taken sleeping pills or something.”

Theon laughed throatily, his voice still sex rough. “I’m that good.” Will hummed pleasantly in reply, his lips curled into a grin, and reached up to kiss his lover’s lips.

“Guess what?”

Theon arched a dark eyebrow. “What?”

Will pushed himself up into a sitting position, and tweaked Theon’s noise. Snorting with laughter at the affronted look on his face, he shifted, and hopped out of the bed. Dark, confused eyes watched him go. “I have to get going.” He grabbed the dress shirt that had been pushed to the floor.

“So I got used for sex then dumped?” He jested, and got a jumper thrown in his face. He spluttered with laughter, and grabbed it, cradling it close to his chest as he watched Will drag on then button up the shirt. He then hunted down the clothes he wore beforehand, fishing his underwear out of the untidy pile. Dragging them on, he teasingly replied “Yep. Great shag, but that was it, I’ll be leaving you a fake number.”

“You’re breaking my heart here.” Theon bantered, watching as Will hauled on his pants and selected a pair of jeans out of his wardrobe. “You always look good and fuckable every time I see you.”

“Trust me, I’d love to stay, but I have some errands to do.” He pulled a face. “One of which is babysitting for a friends tyke. Don’t get me wrong, he’s the sweetest boy you’d ever meet, but very curious, and one that doesn’t know when to stop talking.”

“Bit like you.” He shot back, and this time Will had nothing at hand to through. He made a mocking sound of victory, his eyes shinning with humour. “Will I be seeing you later?” Appropriately dressed, Will approached the bed, and cradled Theon’s comely head in his hands. He kissed him, long and sweet, and the vampire noted with satisfaction that his monster kept silent, likely deep in contented slumber.

“If you like. I can come over, but I’m not sure when I’ll be finished.” He gestured for the jumper that Theon had balled in his lap, and he grudgingly handed it over.

“Don’t worry about that. You have a key, just let yourself in.”

“It’s a plan. Do try to have yourself in a better state than you were in this morning.” He teased, and at Theon’s grumble, he bade him a farewell and left.

　

Theon never did get dressed. After an hour of lazing around in bed, he eventually pulled on the same pyjama pants he wore earlier, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. He stole another shower, washing off sweat and washing his hair, and carefully brushed his teeth.

He spent most of the day tidying up what had happened the previous night- scrubbing the mud out of the carpet, failing to do the same with the blood and lamenting the dark stains. He cleaned up the mugs and the plates, and waited for time to pass and his body to naturally heal it’s wounds. He wondered if he should order a Chinese when Will came over, or maybe a pizza. Or maybe neither, just yet- Will might be interested in another fuck before they ate.

As darkness fell, he leant against his apartment window, his eyes cautious. There was no one out on the street at this time of night, most people safe and warm at home. There was a faint rain tapping against the glass, drumming faintly, a reassuring and gentle sound. He wondered if Will was still baby sitting, or maybe on his way over. He wondered where Kincade was dragging Fidel too, if he was still angry or if time had healed their rift. Unlikely.

Then his healing shoulder throbbed heavily, reminding him of his existence, and he wondered where Smaug was, and if he was hiding in a lair somewhere, plotting the best way to fuck everything up even more. He growled softly, reaching out to touch a hand against the cool glass. The touch chilled his warm hand, but he didn’t move away. He stared out into the dark summer night for a few minutes more, deep in thought.

Then, there was the sound of keys in the door, and Theon turned around to welcome Will back, a wide smile on his face.


End file.
